


The Promise You Made

by Mathmagician



Series: Soulmate AU's [2]
Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Unrequited Love, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 07:32:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13336419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mathmagician/pseuds/Mathmagician
Summary: Canon divergence and Soulmate AU where the first thing you say to your soulmate appears on your skin the moment you talk with them.This is set in 8th year, without any of the events of the book taking place."So, I knew who Simon’s soulmate was since we were 15. And I was fine with keeping my promise to not say anything about it.[...]That is, until he fell in love with Baz."





	The Promise You Made

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovely people!
> 
> Here's a new fic I've been dying to write but didn't have the time. This is (again) a soulmate AU. I seriously only know how to write these. I just love them so much.
> 
> This was written based on a prompt I saw on this tumblr page:  
> http://perfectlyrose.tumblr.com/post/101118660910/au-prompts-masterlist-of-lists
> 
> I would just like to state that I do not own any of these characters. They all belong to the fabulous Rainbow Rowell.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

**_PENNY_ **

I think I figured it out before any of them did. I knew the indications. I had seen it happen before. I was out shopping with my brother when it happened to him. And that had been less than a month before it had happened to them. So, the memory was still pretty fresh in my mind.

I remember seeing Simon walking up to Baz, as the Crucible drew them together to be roommates.

“Hey, my name is Simon Snow.” Simon had said, holding out his hand to shake Baz’s.

“I know bloody well who you are, Chosen One.” Was his reply, turning down the hand Simon was offering, and walking away.

That is probably when the itching started. I remember seeing both of them crazily scratching their own ribs. The place where that first sentence they said to the other would be written after this first meeting.

I remember seeing Baz going wide-eyed and running away, probably to some bathroom to check it out. Simon just ignored the itching and went on with introducing himself to everyone in our class. He came from the Normal world, so he probably didn’t know about soulmates. He didn’t know that when you meet your soulmate, the first thing you say to them appears on your skin, where it will lay forever. I was yet to meet Simon by then, and with all the excitement of my first day at Watford, I soon forgot this incident.

I remember, a few years later, when Simon told me about his soulmate tattoo. He had one of the most generic soulmate tattoos I had ever seen. It read ‘ _Hey, my name is Simon Snow’_ , which is probably the first thing Simon said to _every single person_ he has ever met. When I asked him when it had shown up, he told me he first noticed it after our first day at Watford. I remember thinking of that moment then, thinking of that first day, when I had thought I had seen Basilton get his soulmate mark. But I shrugged it off, sure it had been a mistake I had made. Besides, Simon hated Baz. Or loved him. With all the stalking he did, and the constant babbling about his evil vampire roommate, I wasn’t so sure anymore. Either way, I wasn’t going to be the one to tell him that his soulmate might be his roommate without being sure. And then, one day, my suspicions were confirmed.

I was outside Mummer’s House, waiting for Baz to leave for his usual midnight snack. Yes, I knew Baz was a vampire. I’ve known about it even before Simon started to try and convince the whole school of it. But I also knew Baz was harmless. I knew he only hunted animals. I knew he wasn’t a threat. Even to Simon he wasn’t dangerous. As much as they both wanted to think the opposite. The fact that I was aware Baz posed no threat to Simon was related to the other thing about him that I knew. I knew, and I’ve known for quite a long time, that he was hopelessly in love with Simon.

That night I was waiting for Baz to leave so that I could talk to Simon about some work project we had been doing. When I saw a figure leaving their room, I walked there and opened the door, sure that Simon had to be the person inside. But he wasn’t.

When I opened the door, I was greeted by a shirtless Baz. And, of course, the first thing I spotted was his soulmate mark. It read ‘ _I know bloody well who you are, Chosen One’_. Baz caught me staring at it, and ran to cover himself with a shirt, but it was too late. I already knew the truth.

That night, Basilton made me promise I would never tell Simon. And although I hated hiding stuff from my best friend – particularly such an important piece of information – I figured this surely wasn’t something I wanted to be involved in. So, I vowed to my best friend’s roommate and, apparently, to my best friend’s soulmate, that I would not tell Simon about it. And even though Basilton felt the need to seal this promise with magic – we did use **A gentleman's word is his bond –** I wouldn’t have said anything about it, either way. Bunces don’t break promises.

So, I knew who Simon’s soulmate was since we were 15. And I was fine with keeping my promise to not say anything about it. Soulmates weren’t a recurrent topic of conversation with us, since Simon was dating Agatha and they both knew they weren’t each other’s soulmates – Agatha didn’t have her mark yet, and Simon already did. Even after they broke up, Simon didn’t bring it up that often. I sometimes thought he had even forgotten about it. So, I guess it wasn’t that hard to hide it from him.

That is, until he fell in love with Baz.

 

**_SIMON:_ **

 

I don’t really recall when it was that I first realized I was in love with Basilton Grimm-Pitch. My evil, vampire, handsome, and git roommate. All I know is that, one day, I figured I couldn’t keep him off my mind. And despite that being usual for me, thinking about his stunning looks and witty personality weren’t such regular thoughts to have about your enemy. Then, one day, Baz was doing something deeply infuriating and instead of thinking ‘ _I wish I could punch him avoiding the Anathema_ ’, I thought ‘ _I wish I could just shut him up with a kiss’_. And, as these thoughts became more and more recurrent, I understood that I had fallen in love with Baz. And of all the people I could have fallen for, he was the worst one. He was likely to be the only person in the whole world who would _never_ love me back.

It was pure torture. To love someone you could _never_ have. To want something you could _never_ get. It became unbearable to be in the same room as him, but for all the wrong reasons. I wished countless times that I could just go back to those times when I hated his guts. But it was impossible. Every time I looked at him, my heart fluttered. I became tenser around him, flustering at every word he directed at me, even if all of them were filled with hatred. I didn’t want to pick more fights with him, but, at the same time, I craved his touch. I swayed between avoiding him altogether, and driving him through the edge. Just so that he might, _maybe_ , push me against a wall. When he did, although it was to intimidate me, to spit poisonous words, to hurt my feelings, I blocked that all out and just enjoyed the feeling of his body so close to mine. The _closest_ I would ever get.

Penny told me off for doing this. She kept telling me to just talk to him. To try and get on his good side. To avoid making him lose his temper with me. And maybe, after a while, tell him that I was in love with him. She kept insisting on this, and it was profoundly ridiculous. Baz could never, and _would never_ , love me back. And hurtful as it might be, I was learning to live with it. Besides, I kept hoping that, one day, I would finally figure out who my soulmate was, and this Baz nonsense would be over.

I was probably the only person in the entire world with a soulmate mark but no soulmate. I mean, apart from that said soulmate. I got it the first day at Watford, before I knew anything about it. I remember seeing the words craved on my ribs that night while putting my pyjamas on, and thinking that I had gone insane. I wanted to ask Baz about it, but we didn’t exactly begin on good terms – that remaining until now. So, I asked the only person I could think of, then. I asked the Mage.

He told me about soulmates the way you tell someone tomorrow is going to rain. He made it sound so _unimportant_. So _meaningless_. I remember him telling me to ignore it, telling me it was probably someone I had met a long time ago and that the mark only appeared once I came into a magickal place. He said the Prophecy mattered more than soulmates did. When I asked him if he had a soulmate, he told me his had died years ago. And then, he asked me to leave. He was done with the conversation.

Only after a few years did Penny actually explained to me how it really worked. She told me how, the moment you met your soulmate, the first words you tell them get engraved on your skin. The problem with my soulmate mark was that it was the most generic one possible. It read _‘Hey, my name is Simon Snow’_ , which is probably the way I introduced myself _to every single person_ I have ever met in my life.

The fact that my soulmate never came forward could only mean one of two things: That I either had an unrequited soulmate, which was incredibly rare, but could happen; or that my soulmate had a tattoo as generic as mine and couldn’t know it was me. And, in this case, it would be incredibly hard to figure out who they were. After you and your soulmate get together, your marks will change to match their handwriting. But that would mean I would have to go and kiss the whole school until my mark transformed. And I wasn’t going to do that. I wasn’t that desperate. _Yet_.

And while I couldn’t figure out who my soulmate was, I was stuck being in love with my gorgeous roommate. Who would _never_ be my soulmate. And who would _never_ love me back,

 

**_BAZ:_ **

 

I am sure I am the unluckiest person I know. I am also sure that everyone I would tell this to would love to disagree. They would point out that I come from a wealthy family who loves me. That I am one of the most powerful magicians from my grade, the top of my class. That I am intelligent, educated and talented. And all that is true, I won’t contest it. I have good things going on for me. But the bad ones, the ones _nobody_ knows about, can easily cloud out all the greatness. What no one knows is that I am a gay vampire who is in love with a boy who could _never_ love him back. Said boy is also my fucking soulmate –  a one-sided one, surely – and happens to be my gorgeous, stupid, powerful and careless roommate. The Mage’s Heir.

I’ve known Simon Snow is my soulmate since the moment we met. I remember feeling that tickling sensation as the words were being craved on my skin the second I spoke to him for the first time. I can still feel my panic, as I thought ‘This can’t be happening. My soulmate can’t be the Mage’s Heir. And a _Boy_. My father will kill me’. Most of it still applies. Although my father already knows I am gay, he doesn’t approve of it. He keeps trying to matchmake me with girls from powerful families, completely aware that I will never pay attention to any of them. He keeps hoping that one of them might be my soulmate, and that I will finally understand that I was wrong about my sexuality. He is the wrong one. I am not confused about being queer. I am _sure_. And I already know who my soulmate is. But my father doesn’t know that. And he never will, because I, the unlucky Baz Pitch, happen to be one of the few people in magickal history whose soulmate doesn’t have them as their own soulmate. Not that I know this from his mark – his ribs present a large and generic _‘Hey, my name is Simon Snow’_ , which is the way Simon Snow introduces himself to anyone he meets. I know it because he had absolutely no reaction the moment he spoke to me. He scratched is ribs a little, but other than that, nothing happened. It was a pure coincidence. If he had felt it, I know he would have been as confused and astonished as I was. He would have said something, for sure. But he didn’t, so I knew his soulmate had to be someone else. That is why I have hidden my soul mark from everyone since that moment. Since it reads _‘I know bloody well who you are, Chosen One’_ , I would have no way of denying it to anyone who might see it. I hid it from the start so that no one could ever figure this out. Until Bunce did.

That night, she came into our room thinking it was Snow who was inside. She made a vow she would never tell him, and she hasn’t ever since. She still throws disapproving looks at me whenever she catches me staring at him, but she never said a word. Bunce and I compete over everything at school, but she is a good person. A loyal one. She is the only person, apart from my aunt Fiona, who knows that I am a vampire, gay, and hopelessly in love with Snow. And the _only one_ who knows I have him as a soulmate. And she never said a word about any of those things. She is someone I could have easily become friends with, if she hadn’t paired up with Simon Snow from the beginning.

Despite having him my soulmate, I hated Snow’s guts at first. He was a clueless little kid, always throwing that annoying red ball at the walls of our room, not caring whether I was asleep or not. His magic was so powerful, and he had such a lousy control over it, that it kept draining and filling up every room he was in. And that included ours. He went off a lot at first, burning everything around him and destroying it all. It scared me, since I am flammable, and it annoyed me to see huge amounts of magic go to waste in no time. Yet, I had fun getting him in trouble. So, I did my best trying to push him to his limit at all times. Those first years, I am sure I hated him more than not. If it wasn’t for the gigantic tattoo across my ribs, I would have forgotten all about the soulmate thing. But then, in the fifth year, something shifted.

I don’t recall when it was that I first realized I was in love with Simon Snow, but one day I woke up and I just knew. He was always there, that year. Always following me around, trying to prove to the world that I was a vampire. He failed in that task, but at some point during that year, I figured out I wanted to kiss him more than I wanted to kill him. And since that moment, life has been torture.

So yes, I am sure I have to be the unluckiest person I know. Who else would fall in love with someone who could _never_ love them back?

 

**_PENNY:_ **

 

Keeping secrets from my best friend has never been easy, even if I have been doing that for years. I never told him about knowing for sure Baz was a vampire. Even after Simon’s persistence of unravelling that mystery during our fifth year. I never told him I knew Baz was crazily in love with him. Even when I figured it out after catching him _way_ too many times dreamingly looking at Simon. And I didn’t tell him that I was sure who is soulmate was. Even after hearing Simon complaining over and over about not knowing who they were. Even after hearing him whining that maybe he didn’t have a soulmate back.

But it has been particularly hard to keep that specific secret from him these past few months. Because Simon doesn’t shut up about Baz. It has been weeks since the last time we talked about something _other than Baz,_ and it is driving me insane. I almost wish Simon would go back to his ‘Baz is plotting’ nonsense, because this is _way_ worse. He keeps daydreaming about him, telling me how much it sucks to be in love with his enemy. How much it hurts to love someone you can never have. If only he knew for _how long_ Baz has been dealing with it, he wouldn’t complain as much. Or at all, as they would be mercilessly snogging each other if that was the case. I tried to talk him into telling Baz. I tried to convince him to make a move. I just wanted him to do _something_ , because this crazing pining over him was driving me insane. And I just wish I hadn’t promised both of them not to tell anything to anyone, because I could have easily ended this craziness with just a few words. It’s ridiculous that they both love each other but still pretend to hate each other. And I just wish I could lock them together somewhere until they figured this out. But I can’t. So, I just have to put up with Simon babbling on and on and on about Baz.

We are currently watching the football game. Simon has made me come to _every single one_ of Baz’s matches since the very beginning. And he hardly sees the game, as he spends the entire time watching Baz like a hawk, and sighing like a teenager in love. Which is what he is, I guess.

“Look at him!” He whispers, “How can he be so graceful? He is so gorgeous. Look at the way he moves past all the other players.”

“Simon, he doesn’t even have the ball.”

“I know, but _just_ _look_. He looks _so_ cute with those goddamn shorts and that goddamn bun.”

“I insist, once again, that you talk to him.”

“You know I can’t do that, Pen.” He says pouting. I sigh and lean back on the bench. The game is almost over, and we are tied to the visitor’s team. Watford is playing some Scottish Magickal school that is visiting campus this week. And, of course, their visit ends with a football match. We are as obsessed with football as Normals are, it appears.

I can see that all the players are clearly tired, and I think not much else is happening. It wasn’t a very exciting game and I am cold. I am almost getting up to leave when someone from Watford catches the ball and passes it to Baz. He starts running, avoiding all the other team’s players. Quite gracefully, I have to give Simon that. And then, as he is getting ready to score the winning goal, a sweeper from the other team appears out of the blue and grabs him by the shirt. And I hear fabric being ripped before I see it happening. The guy tore Baz’s shirt all the way down on his right side. By doing so, he exposed his ribs, where everyone can clearly read ‘ _I know bloody well who you are, Chosen One’._ The whole place goes quiet, and Simon’s gasp is heard everywhere, including on the pitch. I feel everything happening in slow motion as Simon stands up, jaw dropped, eyes wide open, looking at Baz who slowly turns around to face him. 

As Baz’s and Simon’s gazes cross, Simon starts to walk past all the people sitting around us, trying to avoid stepping on anyone, and towards the field. He barely even stops as the coach almost instantly nods for him to cross it. Everyone is silent as we watch Simon approach Baz. I was sure most of the people, like me, were hoping for a great movie kiss. Although I also knew most of them, unlike me, believed there would be some punches thrown, or some sort of fight.

As Simon gets to Baz, unfortunately for all of us spectators, he grabs him by what is left of his shirt and drags him all the way across the field and into the locking room.

The moment that door closes everyone starts talking at the same time, complaining that we wouldn’t get to see what was to happen. As for myself, I am just happy my days of keeping secrets are over.

I am also happy that my best friend will finally stop talking nonstop about Baz. Even if it means he will be kissing him nonstop instead.

 

**_BAZ:_ **

 

The game wasn’t going too well. The other team wasn’t even that good, but they had that crazy bulked sweeper that kept stopping me from reaching the goal. They had scored in a moment of distraction from our team, and now the game was tied. I was tired and seriously craving a bath. And I couldn’t stand Simon’s eyes on me for any longer. He could have burnt holes in my back with all the staring. And I wouldn’t have minded it, if he stared because he enjoyed the sight. Which wasn’t the case. He was just staring to make sure I wasn’t ‘plotting’. Poor Snow. Little does he know that all I do is pining for him, not plotting to kill him.

The match is almost over when Terry intercepts the ball from the other team and passes it to me. My way is free, so I start running, avoiding all the middle fielders and the defenders. But then, that fucking sweeper appears out of nowhere, just as I am about to score, and grabs my shirt. As he does so, he tears it all the way, exposing my ribs to the cold. Only after the whole place goes quiet and I hear Snow gasping loudly, do I realize what just happened. They _all_ just got to see my soulmate mark. If I had my wand with me, I would cast a hole to hide in. I turn around slowly, prepared to face Snow’s disgust and hateful words. He is standing, staring at me wide-eyed and with his mouth open in astonishment. But he doesn’t look disgusted, as I thought he would. He starts moving and I freeze, not sure what to do. I can’t understand what he is about to do, as he tries to move past all the people watching the game. Everyone is still, and the silence overwhelming. I see Bunce looking at me with an annoying smirk that reminds me of my own. As he reaches the pitch, Snow looks at the referee, who happens to be the coach, as if he is asking for permission to invade the field. The coach, much like everyone who came to watch or dispute the match today, is looking at us wanting to see what is going to happen next. Our long-time feud is not news to anyone. Even the Scotts who are visiting have heard all about The Mage’s Heir and his evil roommate who fight since the first day.

Now, everyone is shockingly observing the Mage’s Heir’s reaction to finding out his enemy has him as his soulmate. I don’t know what I expect Snow to do when he reaches me, but I know that most of the people here today are waiting for him to punch me. Although I am sure Trixie the Pixie and Keris are hoping that he kisses me. They once told me they ‘ _totally shipped us’_. To which I am sure I have responded with some sarcastic comment, although it made me feel all fuzzy inside. The coach nods for Snow to enter, forgetting he is refereeing a game. Everyone is still in the same places they were the moment my mark was exposed. But as Snow walks towards me, everyone around us starts to stand to have a better view of what is happening. All the players, both Watford’s and the other team’s, move to let him through. I see him approach, fast and confidently, never losing my gaze. I look at him, unsure of what is about to happen. Mentally preparing myself for the rejection, for the disgust, for the anger, for the mocking. I brace myself for the impact but, as he reaches me, Snow grabs me by what is left of my shirt, and drags me all the way across the field and into the locker room.

 

**_SIMON:_ **

 

It was just a normal day of being in love with your roommate who hates you. Although it wasn’t quite a regular day, since there would be a match. Game days were the best ones, because I had an excuse to watch Baz from afar, obsessing over how _gorgeous_ he looks with his hair dishevelled or in a bun. How hot he is, all sweaty and panting after running around for 90 minutes. How gracious he seems when he has the ball at his feet and runs around the field, avoiding everyone and scoring like it was the easiest thing in the entire world. It wasn’t, and I knew it. I sucked at football as much as I loved watching it. But Baz did it so effortlessly he could trick me into thinking it wasn’t a hard thing to do. Pretty much like everything else he does in life.

So, it was a regular match day, I suppose. I always got excited on match days at the prospect of watching Baz being perfect from afar. Although it also stung a little that he wasn’t mine and would never be.

But then it wasn’t a regular match day. Because as Baz was about to score the winning goal for Watford, a defender from the other team approached him from behind and grabbed him by his t-shirt. And he ripped it _all the way down_ from the side. And as he did that, I, along with everyone on the pitch that day, was able to read _‘I know bloody well who you are, Chosen One’_ written across his right rib. Exactly where I had mine _‘Hey, my name is Simon Snow’_. My heart nearly stopped, and I gasped loudly as I stood up. I could sense every head on that place turning to me, waiting for my reaction. I didn’t know how to react, quite frankly. I had just found out that the boy I have been in love with _for months_ , who also happens to be my evil roommate, was my soulmate. I was angry that he didn’t tell me because he clearly knew. And I was scared this meant he didn’t want me. That him not wanting me was why he hid it all these years. And I was also slightly hopeful this could mean I actually stood a chance.

And then, Baz turned around to look at me, and he looked _so_ terrified I knew I just had to talk to him. I started to walk towards him, avoiding the people who sat everywhere and didn’t move, who were frozen in their places waiting for my reaction. I approached the field and looked at the coach, silently asking for permission to cross it. He nodded, and I began, once again, walking towards Baz. _My soulmate_. I wasn’t sure what to do once I reached him. I wasn’t sure I wanted to have this conversation in front of the whole school. And half of the Scottish school that was school visiting Watford. So, I did what seemed more reasonable. I grabbed him by the shirt, and pulled him all the way across the field and into the locker room.

 

**_BAZ:_ **

****

It felt like ages before he said anything. And I didn’t want to be the first one to talk because I had no idea what he expected of me. He had me pressed up against the door and his face was so close to mine I could feel his breath on me. His eyes scattered my face, trying to read me, I think. Not that I feel I would be very hard to read right now, as I am sure panic is written all over. But I’ve been practising my ‘I don’t give a fuck about anything’ look for so long that maybe it became the way I always look.

But Snow’s hands are pressed up against the wall, one at each side of me, and my heart is beating so fast I am sure he can feel it, considering how close he is standing. I curse the deer I just emptied this morning, because all the blood I got from it rushed to my cheeks, and my face feels burning hot. Almost as hot as he looks, staring at me up close, not saying anything. I can count every freckle on his face and neck. I don’t think we’ve ever been this close for so long before, because I am sure I just found out a new mole I had never noticed next to his ear. I just want to kiss him. I just want to grab him by the neck and kiss him.

That’s when Snow sighs and finally speaks.

“You’ve known all this time and you never said anything. Why?” It wasn’t even a question. It was a clear demand. I responded with a question.

“Why do you care so much?”

“We spent years fighting.” He says, looking at me so intensely I feel like he could light me on fire with just his eyes. “We spent all this time fighting each other, when we could have been something else.”

“What makes you think I want something else, Snow?” I regret the moment those words leave my mouth. His eyes fill with pain instantly. Yet, he doesn’t back off. I’m still pressed up against the wall. In all my fantasies, we wouldn’t be talking by now. But this isn’t one of my fantasies. This is really happening. And I have no clue to what is going to come out of this conversation.

“Is that why you never said anything? Because you don’t want me as your soulmate?”

“Why do you care? I’m not even your soulmate back.”

“How the hell could you even _know_ that? My fucking mark is the most generic thing ever, and you know that.”

“You had no reaction whatsoever when you spoke to me that first time.”

“Because I didn’t know about it.” He yelled, looking at me with desperation written all across his face. “Fuck Baz, I spent the past months crazily hoping that finding my soulmate would make my feelings for you go away. And now _you_ are my goddamn soulmate.” 

I freeze. Did he just say he had feelings for me?

“What do you mean your feelings for me?” Snow sighs and takes his hands off the wall, backing up slightly. I grab him by the wrist to stop him from moving any further, and search for his gaze. He still avoids my eyes, but doesn’t try to leave anymore.

“What do you mean your feelings for me?” I repeat, given that I had gotten no answer.

“What do you expect me to respond to that?” Snow says, clearly waiting for me to mock him. “Do you want a heartfelt declaration of my love just so that you can reject it?”

He looks up at me, eyes filled with pain. And I just want to grab him by the neck and kiss him. He is just right here, looking at me. So vulnerable even though he was the one who just found out I have him as my soulmate. He is _so_ gorgeous, and I am _so_ in love with him and all I want to do is kiss him. And it suddenly crosses my mind that I could do that, considering he just told me that he has feelings for me.

And so, I do.

 

**_SIMON:_ **

 

Suddenly, I feel Baz’s hand move from my wrist to my face. He pulls my head up and makes me look at him. I try to avoid his gaze, but I can’t. And when our eyes meet, I don’t see the disgust I was expecting. His cold grey eyes are suddenly warm. And, for the first time, I realize they are not just grey. They’re blue and green all at once. They remind me of the stormy days I always enjoyed watching from our dorm room. And I am not so scared anymore. Maybe my feelings are not so unrequited after all.

And then Baz is kissing me, and I am sure they aren’t.

****

**_BAZ:_ **

 

Simon tastes like cherry scones and all my wildest dreams. He pressed me right back against the wall moments after I connected our lips, and I all my teenage dreams are coming true. He is currently biting my lip teasingly, and I can no longer suppress the moan that was threatening to escape from my lips for quite a while. He sees this as a sign to kiss me deeper, and I don’t complain.  My hands are on his hair, and I am running them through his curls like I always wanted to. I also kissed this mole on his neck I always dreamed of kissing. I still have a long list of things I have wanted to do to Simon Snow since I was fifteen. Some of them we might do soon. Some of them might take time. But I am sure by now I will get to do them all.

After a while he loosens his grip on my neck and steps back a little bit, both of us panting and flushed. I pull him closer again, trying to find his lips once more, but he stops me.

“Wait.” My heart sinks a little. Is he going to say this was a bad idea? I brace myself for it. But then he looks down at my mark and touches my ribs where that fucking sentence will forever be written and starts grinning. “That is my handwriting.” He states proudly. I look down. Indeed, it is.

“I’m not really surprised. I never said that particular sentence to anyone but you.”

“Don’t be a bummer Baz.” He says, disapprovingly looking at me. And then lifts his shirt to reveal that very generic introduction I’ve seen written on his ribs countless times. But it changed too. “And this is your handwriting. Did you really had to be such a posh even when writing?” He says, mocking me.

“You can find yourself a different soulmate if you don’t fancy it. With that mark, it could be anyone.” I reply sarcastically. He looks at me annoyed and I instantly say “I’m kidding. Please don’t.”

“I didn’t intend to.” He says.

And, this time, it’s him who kisses me.

 

**_PENNY:_ **

 

Everyone that was watching, or playing, the game didn’t leave the place until Simon Snow and Basilton Pitch left that locker room. Around me, people were betting over whether they were making out or killing each other. The whole school, even the ones that weren’t watching the match, started to come to the pitch. At some point, Agatha showed up running, out of nowhere, and sat down next to me.

“Is it true what everyone is saying?” She manages to get out, completely out of air. I nod. I wait for her to say something spiteful or dramatic, but instead, she just smiles brightly. “This is the best thing _ever_. I was always rooting for those two.” I guess I misjudged her.

“What do you think it’s happening?” She asks me.

“I know what’s happening. They’re snogging.” I whisper, trying not to make Trixie, who is running the bet, lose too much money.

In that moment, the door we have all been staring at, opens. Simon and Baz step outside, both with their hair all dishevelled and looking wild.

“They _so_ were.” Agatha whispers to me. I smile. Everyone is just silent, once again. Waiting to see if the way they look like is due to fighting or making out. And then Baz steps closer to Simon and proudly holds his hand, intertwining their fingers together. Everyone around me starts cheering, even the people who put money on them fighting. Everyone likes a happy ending, I guess.

Simon locks his arm around Baz waist and they both cross the pitch and leave towards Mummer’s House. As I see them disappear in the distance, I think back at that first day, when I saw them getting their marks. And I am so glad that, after all these years, they _finally_ figured it out. I will later make them apologize for making my life a living hell with all the promises they made me keep for them. But, for now, I will just let them enjoy this new-found happiness.  

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this all the way through. I really hope you enjoyed it.  
> I apologize for any really big and stupid mistakes, I am seriously sleep deprived and not a native speaker, so there might be a few.  
> Feel free to leave comments or remarks!
> 
> Have a wonderful day everyone.


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